in a jungled forest town
and a professor in a dulled shirt
and a treehouse overlooking the rustling bay
even--- to be dissipated
tomorrow, to be sad
and grey arched troubles
of harmonic gauges and
the freckled eyes
of an entire army
marching towards the sun
and eyes beaming into carbon particles
begging to be seen
by their stargazing lovers.
and bells tied to our ankles,
shivers make them
clash wildly into each other
demanding birds
to arise from their enwintred slumber,
under crumbled summer
weeds and frozen
bulbs of forever-flowers,
portals for our eyelids
and
tea leaves
held in our apron we saw-
a sparkling of light pink roses
from our knitted purses,
O, to be alive and wildly tumultuous!
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